


The Mystery Carver of Storybrooke

by Jrob64, Kymbersmith90



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jrob64/pseuds/Jrob64, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kymbersmith90/pseuds/Kymbersmith90
Summary: Killian finds ways to cheer Emma up after Henry leaves to seek his own adventure. In the process, he creates a huge mystery for the residents of Storybrooke.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 75





	The Mystery Carver of Storybrooke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kmomof4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for our wonderful friend Krystal, who is the most encouraging, sweet and kind person, and who always leaves the BEST comments when she reads our stories. Hope your day is spectacular!

*********

Emma Swan parked her yellow Volkswagen Beetle in front of the house she shared with her husband, and swept her eyes across the front yard. 

“Huh,” she uttered, too astounded by what she saw to come up with anything else to say. 

Killian was sitting on the porch steps holding a pumpkin in his hand while he dug into it with his hook. Emma stepped from the car and slammed the door shut, then walked through the front gate. 

“What’s going on, Charlie Brown? Are you trying to turn our yard into a pumpkin patch so the Great Pumpkin will come?” she asked, gesturing broadly with her arm to indicate the dozens of orange gourds. 

Killian stood up and greeted his wife with a smile and a kiss. “I know you’re referencing something, Love. And I’m sure you’re aware that I don’t know what it is.”

She giggled and leaned in for another kiss. “Seriously, where did all these come from?”

“Your father delivered them this morning. He had a bumper crop this year and asked if we’d be interested in having a few.”

“I’d say ‘a few’ is a huge understatement. There are enough here to make pies for the entire town.”

“Why would we make pies out of them?” Killian asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Um, because people eat pumpkin pie? You should know - you love my mom’s.”

“Aye, but she doesn’t make it from a pumpkin.”

“No, she makes it from a purée in a can, and what do you think that purée is made of?”

He looked thoughtful for a minute. “Oh.” 

Emma could tell he was genuinely surprised that pumpkin pie filling was made from the orange fruits that were currently littering their front lawn. 

“What are we supposed to do with all of these? _I’m_ not making any pies from them!”

“I thought perhaps we could carve them and give them away to our friends and family.”

Emma frowned. “I’m terrible at carving pumpkins. Just ask Henry. He always teases me about how bad I am at it. At least, he used to before he…” Her voice trailed off, and her husband could tell that the tears, which were always just beneath the surface these days, were threatening to make an appearance. 

Henry had left a few weeks prior to go off and seek his own adventure. Killian missed his stepson tremendously, but it was nothing compared to how much Emma missed him. He had lost count of how many times she’d broken down since her son had departed. He never knew what would set her off - finding a pair of Henry’s socks in the laundry, seeing the door to his bedroom closed, setting only two plates out for dinner instead of three - and he felt helpless to know how to console her. 

He’d tried numerous ways to cheer her up, but he knew only time would help her to accept the fact that her son was an adult now, and wanted to find his own way in the world. In the meantime, Killian vowed to have patience, and to show her that he would always be there for her. 

“Perhaps you just need someone to show you how to do it properly,” he proposed. 

“I suppose you’re an _expert_ at it,” she smirked. Picking up the pumpkin he had set down on the porch, she turned it around and gasped. “What the hell? Is that...is that Smee?”

She’d expected to see circular eye holes, a triangle for a nose, and a gap-toothed smile. What she _hadn’t_ expected was the easily recognizable face of the cartoon character Smee from the Disney movie “Peter Pan”. Killian had cut away slivers and slices of the outside skin of the pumpkin, allowing the lighter orange pulp to show through, in order to create the portrait. 

“Aye, it is. I thought he would get a kick out of seeing his cartoon counterpart carved into a pumpkin.”

“It’s amazing!” Emma praised. “Did you do it all with your hook?”

“I used some other attachments too, but most of it was done with my hook.”

Emma carefully set it back down on the porch, then turned to look at her husband. “You’re a man of many talents, Babe.”

“Don’t I know it!” he grinned, attempting to wink at her. Being able to wink correctly was obviously _not_ one of those talents. 

“When are you gonna give it to Smee?” she asked.

“I plan to take it down to the docks and leave it as a surprise for him.”

“You’re not going to tell him that you’re the one who carved it?”

“I thought it would be more fun to keep him guessing.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders. “If that’s what you want to do. It’s too bad you won’t get credit for it, though.”

“I’m sure I’ll be found out eventually, Love. I just want to have a little fun with it.” He put his hand and hook on her hips and pulled her closer. “Now, how would you like that lesson on pumpkin carving?”

She looped her arms around his neck and grinned mischievously. “I’d be much more interested in having you show me _other_ things you can do with those attachments.”

*********

In the following weeks, Storybrooke was abuzz over the mystery of the carved pumpkins which were appearing all over town. Each of them was a skillfully created portrait of a Disney cartoon character which matched the cursed personas of the town’s residents. 

The day after Smee discovered his, Ruby found one of Little Red Riding Hood sitting outside Granny’s. This was followed by pumpkins secretly delivered to Belle, Ashley, Marco, August, Mother Superior, Tink, and each of the seven dwarves. Regina was unamused to see the Evil Queen displayed on the pumpkin placed beside the door to the Mayor’s office, but Emma had to admit that it was an uncanny likeness. 

Mary Margaret was delighted when hers showed up in her classroom at school, and David’s was delivered to the farm sometime before dawn the next day. 

Dr. Whale, Zelena, and Granny got carved portraits of their own faces, since there were no Disney counterparts. Even little Neal and Robyn were excited to find their faces portrayed on small pumpkins. 

Emma had helped Killian move all the pumpkins to the backyard the day after they were delivered so that nobody in town would see them in front of their house. As she watched the pile steadily dwindle, she was astonished that her husband was able to continue creating the likenesses day after day. 

In order to avoid suspicion, he even carved the cartoonish Captain Hook into one, although it pained him to do so. He grumbled about the permed hair and ridiculous mustache, as well as the plumed hat, the entire time he worked on it. When it appeared at the police station the next day, he made a huge show of complaining about the travesty of the portrait. 

Emma was unsurprised to find her own pumpkin one day, but the likeness of her face took her breath away. She’d seen every carving that he had done, and none of them was as perfect as the one he’d made of her. She could see the love and care that he’d put into it, and it made her fall in love with him a little bit more. 

She thought he had run out of people to carve, until one morning when she took her cup of coffee out onto their front porch and found a lone pumpkin sitting on the top step. She walked down the stairs and turned to look at it. What she saw brought instant tears to her eyes. 

Killian had carved Henry’s face into the large, round pumpkin. It was a remarkable likeness of her son, complete with his trademark scarf around his neck. 

She moved forward and traced her fingers over the edges of the lines that were cut into the shell, while swallowing hard to keep a sob from escaping. 

“What have you found, Swan?”

Emma looked up to meet the blue eyes of her husband. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

*********

Killian had successfully kept his secret for weeks. Emma had a feeling that her dad suspected who it was, but he wasn’t saying anything. Every time she and her husband walked down the street or went into Granny’s, they heard people speculating about who the artist could be. The two of them joined into the conversations to keep the others from figuring out that the Mystery Carver was standing right in front of them. 

The town’s annual Fall Festival was quickly approaching, and for the first time, Emma wasn’t looking forward to it. She and Henry had always attended it together ever since the first year that he’d brought her to Storybrooke. In the past few years, Killian had joined them at the event, but he knew that it held special meaning for Emma and her son. 

Because he wanted to spare his wife the emotional turmoil of attending the festival without Henry, Killian came up with a plan to keep her busy at home with other more enjoyable activities. He knew their absence would be apparent, so he’d come to the conclusion that he would need some help with pulling it off. 

Emma was working at the sheriff’s station the day of the festival, while David and Killian helped set up booths in the town square that morning. As they pounded in tent pegs, Killian addressed his friend. “I need to ask a favor of you, Mate.”

“What’s that?” David asked, pausing to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“I think it would be best for Emma to stay away from the festival this year, since she’s already so upset about Henry leaving. I’ve devised a plan to keep her distracted at home, and I need you to make our excuses.”

“As your father-in-law, do I want to know what this distraction is going to be?”

“Most definitely not,” Killian replied, with a devious smile on his face.

David rolled his eyes and heaved a theatrical sigh. “Fine, against my better judgment, I’ll help you out. What do you want me to tell everyone?”

*********

Emma checked the clock on the wall and saw that her shift would finally be ending in ten minutes. Time had crawled all day, despite her attempts at staying busy. She’d walked up and down the sidewalks several times, driven the outskirts of town on patrol twice, and filed the paperwork from the week, but nothing had helped the eight hours pass any faster.

The only minutes that had gone quickly were the ones when Killian had stopped in to eat lunch with her. Before he left, he reminded her that they could head to the festival once she got home and changed clothes. 

Emma sighed. She knew that’s why time seemed to drag on and on today. She dreaded going to the festival without being able to share it with Henry. She was going to miss all their little traditions that they’d established over the years. They always got hot apple cider as soon as they arrived so they could sip on it as they checked out the crafts. Then after he’d gone through the ten dollars she gave him to play games, they ate a homemade apple dumpling with warm cinnamon sauce and vanilla ice cream. 

Once the music started in the middle of the town square, they sat on a bench, drank hot chocolate with cinnamon, and watched people dance. They always tried at least one line dance together, and usually ended up laughing so hard at their miserable attempt that they couldn’t even make it to the end of the song. 

Killian had been there with them the last several years, and Emma danced to a couple of slow songs with him, but she saved one dance especially for her son. As soon as the first notes of her requested song “Wind Beneath My Wings” started to play, the two of them went straight to the middle of the dance floor. She remembered the first three or four years when she could put her hands on his shoulders and look down into his little boy face, as they tried not to step on each other’s toes. Lately, however, Henry had grown so much that he was at eye level with her, and the hand that she held in hers wasn’t that of a child any longer. 

The festival always ended with a fireworks display, which she, Henry and Killian watched down by the docks with her parents, little brother, and Regina. 

Emma was shaken from her reminiscing when the door to the sheriff’s office slammed shut. She looked up to see Anton, who filled in as a deputy on occasion. 

“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” he greeted. 

“Oh, hey Anton. I guess I’m officially off-duty since you’re here now.”

“Yep. Anything I need to know for tonight?”

“Not really. Just make sure you’re down by the docks before they start shooting off the fireworks.”

“No problem. Enjoy the festival!”

Emma sucked in a quick breath before she replied, “Thanks. I’ll try.” Then she grabbed her red leather jacket and went out the door.

*********

As she climbed the steps to their house, Emma couldn’t help but smile at the three pumpkins sitting on them. Burning candles placed inside lit up the portraits of Captain Hook, Henry, and herself. She briefly wondered if everyone else in town got as much pleasure out of their own carved masterpieces as she did. 

When she opened the front door, she was surprised to see how dark it was inside. The curtains were all closed and no lights were turned on. The only illumination was coming from the pumpkins that were glowing on the stairs. She moved closer to examine the carvings on each one. 

The first one, placed on the third step, had an intricate silhouette of a swan. As always, she was amazed at the details that her husband had been able to include in the carving. She continued to climb higher up the staircase and saw a pumpkin containing a simple plus sign, one with a hook, and the last, sitting beside their bedroom door, with an equals sign. 

As she pushed the door open, she let out a gasp. Just like downstairs, the room had been darkened and was lit only with the candles inside the half dozen pumpkins placed around the room. Hearts were carved into each one, and they created a soft orange glow and warm ambiance in the room. 

“Welcome home, Love.” 

Emma turned to see her husband emerge from behind the opened door. He held out a single red rose, and moved forward to give her a sweet kiss. 

She took the offered flower, and noticed that he was dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a white T-shirt. 

“Killian, what are you doing? I thought we were going to the festival.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I knew you weren’t looking forward to going without Henry this year, so I decided that we would stay home and have an evening to ourselves instead.” He leaned back to look into her face. “Is that alright with you?”

Emma choked back a sob and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his chest. After a few moments, she managed to say, “That’s perfect, actually.”

Then a thought occurred to her and she stepped back. “But everyone is going to wonder where we are. Mom and Dad, my brother, Regina…”

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart. I’ve got your father covering for us. He’s going to explain that you just weren’t feeling up to being there tonight.”

“Thank you, Killian. I _really_ didn’t want to go.” 

“I know, Darling. Now, I have procured some of your favorite treats from the festival, so if you’d like to change into something more comfortable, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Emma laid the rose down on the dresser. “I have a better idea. Why don’t _you_ help me get out of these clothes so I can enjoy my _very_ favorite treat.”

Killian growled deep in his throat and wrapped his arm around her back to yank her against him. Their mouths came together and immediately they were plundering each other’s warm depths. Emma walked them backwards until Killian’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he sank down onto the mattress. She quickly slipped out of her jacket, while his hand got busy expertly unbuttoning her blouse. 

She slipped her badge off the waistband of her jeans and tossed it in the direction of the dresser. Then she reached for the hem of his T-shirt and slowly pulled it up his body, feathering her fingers along his ribcage as she did so. 

He squirmed and broke the contact between their mouths. “Swan...that drives me crazy!”

“Mmmhmm, I know,” she mumbled, grinning against his lips. 

While Killian grasped his shirt to pull it over his head, Emma finished undoing the last two buttons of hers and removed it, then quickly took off her boots, shoved her jeans down her legs, and kicked them aside. 

In a move that she would never figure out, he slid his hook around her back and unfastened her bra. His desire-darkened eyes met hers, and he bit his lip before he surged forward to suck her nipple into his mouth. She felt the cool metal of his hook gliding across the opposite nipple as she threw her head back and moaned. 

Killian thoroughly lavished her breasts with nips, licks, and kisses, driving her to her first orgasm. He pulled her down onto the bed when her knees weakened, and kissed across her collarbone and up her neck as she came back down from her high. 

While she caught her breath, he wriggled out from under her, took off his pajama pants, slipped his prosthesis off, and dragged her panties down her legs. 

Emma could hear him moving around the room before she suddenly felt a cold sensation on her breasts and belly. Her eyes popped open and she looked down at herself to see a trail of whipped cream painted on her body. When she glanced up at her husband, he had a sly grin on his face. Shaking the can, he opened his mouth and shot a dollop of the cream into it. 

“You do know how I _love_ whipped cream,” he smirked. Then he aimed it toward his wife again and extended the line down to her most intimate place. 

Emma writhed on the bed as he slowly worked his way down her body, licking away the sugary foam. She spread her legs wide as he reached her aching core, which he had coated with whipped cream. He dragged his tongue through it, licked his lips, and said, “I have to say that I like this taste far more than your mother’s pumpkin pie.”

Emma’s head snapped up. “Do NOT mention my mom while you are doing THAT!”

He let out a low chuckle against her clit, and the vibrations that it caused sent a jolt of electricity through every nerve in her body. 

“Killian, please!” she begged, reaching down and grasping a handful of his hair, while her other hand fisted in the sheets. 

The following minutes were filled with some of the most intense pleasure Emma had ever experienced, as her husband used his talented fingers and tongue to drive her over the edge a second time. 

He scooted his body up beside her as she lay panting on the bed. “Delicious,” his voice rumbled in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. 

She opened her eyes to see his hand in front of her face. “Would you like to taste for yourself, Love?” he asked, wiggling his fingers as an invitation. 

Emma grasped his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth. She slowly licked his sticky fingers clean, all the while locking eyes with him from under her lashes. 

Killian swallowed hard while he watched the erotic sight unfolding before him. As soon as she finished and smacked her lips, he surged forward to capture them. Flinging his leg over her to straddle her body, he shoved his arms under her armpits and dragged her further up the bed. 

“Emma Jones, you are going to be the death of me one of these days,” he muttered. 

“Huh-uh. That has happened far too often already,” she answered breathlessly, between open-mouthed kisses. 

Emma adjusted herself on the bed until she was in the perfect position beneath her husband. Looking into his stormy blue eyes, she wrapped her hand around his rock-hard member and guided it to her heat. 

Both of them were so overly aroused that when he entered her, they had to still themselves for several seconds to regain their control. Finally, they began to move together with a rhythm that could only be achieved by two people who loved one another deeply and completely.

As their pace quickened, Emma gripped the muscles in Killian’s upper arms which were planted firmly on either side of her, and panted, “Come...with me...this time...Killian!” 

Helpless to do anything besides what she asked, he gave three more sharp thrusts and exploded inside her as he felt her slick walls tighten around him fiercely. 

Killian knew he should shift his body weight off of his wife, but in his current state, he was unable to move. He felt her hands sliding up and down his back and heard her whispering in his ear, “I love you so, _so_ much, Killian. More than I could ever possibly tell you. Thank you for knowing exactly what I needed tonight.” 

He finally regained enough energy to lift his head and gaze into the beautiful face of his love. “I adore you, Emma, and I always want to give you everything you need to be happy.” He dipped his head to press two soft and sweet kisses to her lips, before he groaned and rolled to his left, taking her with him so that she ended up laying halfway on top of him. 

“ _You_ make me happy, Babe. I hope you know that.”

“Mmhmm, I do.”

“But you know what would make me even happier right now?”

Killian opened one eye to look over at her. “Does it involve food?”

Emma giggled. “You know me very well!”

Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting against the headboard of the bed, indulging in hot apple dumplings topped with melting ice cream. 

“Mmmmm,” Emma moaned. “This is SO good!”

“Eh, it’s alright. Not nearly as good as the treat I had earlier this evening!”

Emma rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs, but she couldn’t keep from smiling. “You’re impossible!”

“And you love me for it.”

“For that and a whole lot more.” She leaned over and shared a vanilla and cinnamon flavored kiss with him. “Now that the festival is over, are you going to reveal who the mystery pumpkin carver is?”

Killian looked thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve decided that I’m not going to. I’d like to continue doing it year after year until someone finally figures it out. What do you think about that idea?”

“Whatever you want. You’re the one who has to do all the work. You _are_ aware that my father knows it’s you, aren’t you?”

“Aye, I thought he would realize it since he supplied all the pumpkins. He’s been very good about not giving it away, though. I don’t even think he told your mother.”

“He _definitely_ didn’t tell Mom or it wouldn’t be a secret any more!”

They laughed together and went back to eating their dumplings. When they finished, Killian took their empty bowls to the kitchen and returned with two mugs of hot chocolate sprinkled with cinnamon clutched in his hand. He set them on the nightstand and bent down to retrieve the can of whipped cream that had been carelessly discarded on the floor during their lovemaking. 

“Would you like some, Swan?” he asked cheekily, with a raised eyebrow. 

She scrunched her nose up adorably. “I think we’ve had enough of that tonight!”

“You can never,” he paused to spray some straight into his mouth, “have too much whipped cream,” he finished, talking around the glob of goo. 

After setting the can down, he walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open. 

“Why did you do that?”

“Because if my calculations are correct, the fireworks should be starting any time now.” He settled back down onto the bed and Emma handed him his mug. Sure enough, less than three minutes later, colorful bursts began to light up the bedroom. Their house was perfectly placed to get a good view of them being set off over the harbor. 

After their cocoa was gone, Emma wrapped her arms around her husband’s torso and snuggled into his chest. She sighed happily as he ran his fingers through the tangles in her hair. The show lasted for nearly twenty minutes, and then their room was dark once again, with only the barely flickering candles inside the pumpkins adding a bit of light. 

“It was a good display this year, wasn’t it Swan?”

“It was okay.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he asked, slightly afraid that she was sad to have missed the festival. 

She leaned back with a sultry smile on her face. “I much prefer the fireworks that _we_ created tonight!”

Killian growled and tackled her to the bed. The sound of Emma’s laughter fueled his passion as he told her, “I think I’d like an encore of _that_ show, my love!”

Emma still missed going to the Fall Festival with her son, but she was quite happy to create a new tradition with her husband - one that she didn’t have to wait a whole year to repeat. 

  
  


*********

The identity of Storybrooke’s Mystery Carver remained a secret for many years, until the day three-year-old Hope Swan-Jones stood in the middle of Granny’s and proudly announced, “My papa makes pwetty pictures in pumpkins!”

*********

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting. Be sure to send Krystal some love! I hope you enjoyed it, K!


End file.
